


dancing with the devil

by gay_as_heck



Series: Femslash February 2017 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Lapdance, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9577022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gay_as_heck/pseuds/gay_as_heck





	

“This is a bad idea,” Charlie mumbled, sipping her drink.

“What?” Dean took his eyes off one of the male strippers for a second. “Why?”

“Because this is the _wrong_ way to try to get over my dry spell.”

“There’s no such thing as a wrong way to get over a dry spell.”

“Yeah, there is. And this is it.” Charlie was way out of her element here. Drinking? Sure. Naked ladies? Hell to the yeah! Both of these put together in an environment where everything came with a price and sleazy men were within arms' reach? Not so great.

“C’mon,” Dean pleaded. “Just another 15 minutes. If you still wanna go home by then, we’ll get out of here.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.

We’ll just watch Game of Thrones instead."

“You know me so well.”

Dean snorted. “It’s not that hard to know that you’re a nerd.”

“And proud of it.”

“Anyway,” Dean said pointedly, “go get your groove on, or something. Get some ass.”

“You’re so vulgar.”

“And proud of it.” Dean walked away before she could respond, and Charlie rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to the brightly lit stage. One dancer, all legs and dark brown curls, winked at her suggestively, and Charlie smiled nervously. The girl sauntered over, raising an eyebrow as she sat down.

“You alone?” Charlie nodded, her mouth poised to let out an embarrassing stream of word vomit when-

“Good.” She straddled Charlie, her hair surrounding her in a halo and _holy crap_ she smelled like cinnamon and body glitter, and in that moment it was the most heavenly smell in the world.

“What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Charlie,” she mumbled, staring up at the dancer in awe.

She smiled, her wide, red mouth curling up into a smile. “Cute name. I’m Gilda.”

Gilda stood suddenly. “If you want a dance, let me know, or talk to the guy over there.” She jerked her head in the direction of a well dressed man standing in front of a curtain.

“See you around.”

Charlie slumped back against the plastic couch, watching as Gilda bent down to talk to another patron, then another one. She caught a glimpse of Dean over by the stage, placing a dollar bill in the g-string of someone wearing angel wings and cowboy boots, the gleeful look on his face reminding her of when they were kids and he’d managed to pull one over on her and Sam. She turned to look at Gilda once more, mentally counting the cash in her purse. Dean had paid for her first drink, then she’d paid for the next one, and so on. She probably had about 100 dollars left.

Fuck it. She stood and followed Gilda, awkwardly trailing behind her before summoning the courage to tap her on the shoulder. Gilda turned around, the sultry smile on her face making Charlie weak in the knees.

“I was wondering if, if you uh, if I could um-“

“You want a lap dance?” Charlie nodded vigorously.

Gilda smiled. “Private?”

She nodded once more, and Gilda crooked her finger, leading Charlie into a dimly lit room, with a small chair in the middle. Charlie put her purse down on the floor, and turned to see Gilda taking off her bra, scrunching up her curls with one hand as she smiled again.

“I, uh…” Charlie trailed off.

“I can get naked, if you prefer that.”

“No! This is fine! I was just...surprised, is all.”

Gilda laughed. “Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be there in a second.”

Charlie sat down gingerly, trying not to stare at Gilda’s chest too much, but it was hard _not_ to. Her breasts were absolutely perfect, symmetrical and full, perky and the perfect size for her to reach up and grab, only she couldn’t, wasn’t allowed to.

Gilda straddled her, breasts bouncing as she made herself comfortable on Charlie’s lap, her eyes shining.

“Here are the rules. Lap dances are 15 dollars a song. You decided how long you want it to go on, just let me know when you want me to stop. Stomach, thighs, and back are good to touch. Hips and ass are okay, as long as you don’t try to dictate how fast I move or stick your fingers into places they don’t belong. Crotch and tits are off limits. Any questions?”

Charlie shook her head breathlessly.

“One last thing…try to relax. This is supposed to be fun.” Gilda smiled. “I’ll start the music.”

Charlie watched as she pulled a remote from seemingly out of nowhere, and pressed a button on it, tossing it to the side as a drum beat began. Gilda began grinding against her, the bare skin of her upper thighs gliding smoothly against Charlie’s legging clad thighs. She draped her arms around Charlie’s neck, moving into a full body roll, her breasts pressing against Charlie’s chest as she danced. Charlie could barely keep her breathing steady, her arms hanging clumsily at her side as she tried not to move too much. The song ended, and Gilda looked at Charlie expectantly.

“Um...Another one?”

Gilda smiled, and Charlie worked up the courage to place her hands on Gilda’s thighs, trying not to hold on too tightly as Gilda moved back and forth, her curls falling forward as she bowed her head. She lifted her ass up, then brought it down hard, the slapping sound muffled by the music both in and outside of the small room.Gilda tightened her arms around Charlie’s neck as she lifted her ass again, this time bringing it down onto Charlie’s lap in a series of quick thrusts. Charlie slid her hands up to Gilda’s back, grasping a little more firmly as Gilda gyrated again, slowing down as the song ended.

This time, Charlie simply nodded, and Gilda kept dancing, this time turning her back to Charlie, bending over and resting her hands on Charlie's knees as she opened them slightly, her ass pressing up against Charlie’s crotch as she moved again. Charlie bit back a moan, enjoying the feeling of the fabric of her leggings pressed up against her with the force of Gilda dancing. She rested her hands on the stretch of skin above her underwear, throwing her head back as a particularly hard grind sent a jolt up her body, flooding her brain with arousal.

The next song started, and without even thinking, Charlie whispered, “More.” Gilda obliged her, turning around to face her again, grabbing her breasts with her hands, jiggling them as she danced, letting them go as she leaned against Charlie, whispering, “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable without your shirt on?” Charlie nodded and lifted her hands, allowing Gilda to pull her shirt off and toss it to the floor. She brought her hands to Gilda’s back once more, lowering her hands, until her hands rested on her ass. Tentatively, she gave a soft squeeze, and was surprised to hear Gilda pull in a shuddering breath, her hips stuttering as she held onto Charlie’s shoulders. She gave another squeeze, harder this time, and Gilda quickened her grinding, pressing her whole body against Charlie.

The song faded into the next one, and Charlie lay back as far as the chair would allow her, staring up at Gilda as she continued to dance. Gilda lowered her upper body slightly, her nipples grazing Charlie’s face, and she couldn’t hold back the moan that she’d been holding back. Gilda’s dark brown nipples were stiff against Charlie, whether it was the cold or arousal that had them that way was something Charlie didn’t know. Gilda lowered her chest again, this time rubbing her breasts in Charlie’s face, continuing her grinding. The arousal that had been steadily building in Charlie for the last few dances was almost unbearable now; she squeezed her thighs together as she grabbed Gilda’s ass again, letting out a breathy sigh as she felt the soft skin of Gilda’s stomach rub against her own. Every inch of her was alive and vibrating with desire.

The song faded out, and Charlie whispered, “I can afford…one more, don’t listen to me if I ask for another one.” Gilda nodded, stepping off of Charlie’s lap as she slid her panties off. When she saw Charlie’s expression, she smiled cheekily.

“For being such a good customer,” she said, sliding back into place on Charlie’s lap.

Charlie didn’t complain, her hands grasping at the smooth skin on Gilda’s ass, her mouth aching to taste every inch of Gilda, her hands aching to touch every inch of body. Gilda grabbed her breasts again, squeezing them together, rubbing them on Charlie’s face teasingly. She pressed a small kiss to the edge of Charlie’s jaw, her hands gently touching her neck, smiling. Gilda moved her arms to encircle Charlie’s neck once more, lifting her ass up and sending it down hard. Charlie felt the two handfuls she had a hold on jiggle, and she squeezed as Gilda thrusted again and again, each thrust making Charlie more and more wet.

“Fuck,” she murmured, biting her lip as Gilda’s breasts hung tantalizingly over her, her ass gyrating under Charlie’s hands. She squeezed her thighs together again, a soft pulse of arousal making her heart beat faster.

All too soon, the song ended, and Charlie let go slowly, disappointed. Gilda stood, pulling her underwear back on, handing Charlie her shirt.

“Thanks,” Charlie said, smiling, and she pulled her shirt back over her head as she grabbed her purse, counting out 90 dollars and folding them up, handing them over to Gilda, who gave them a quick once over before she put them in her bag. Charlie smiled awkwardly, turning to leave. “Wait!”

Charlie turned back, curiously.

“I never do this, but…” Gilda turned around, rummaging through a bag on the floor. “Here it is.” She pulled out a business card.

“Call me, after hours. I just might pick up.”

She winked, pulling her bra back on. Charlie smiled, waving awkwardly as she exited the room.

* * *

 

“Hey!” Dean’s voice rang out behind her. “Where were you? I couldn’t find you!”

Charlie turned, shrugging. “Oh, you know, just around.”

Dean grinned. “You totally had a lap dance. I told you you’d like this place!”

Charlie rolled her eyes, clutching the white card tighter. “Yeah, whatever."


End file.
